Page 3 of Pomegranate Kiss (Charmed in Charleston #2)

Chapter Three

“ H old still, you twitchy motherfucker,” Lex growled, even as her hand remained steady.

The stylus buzzed, the static noise of it something that soothed her nerves. She’d been getting inked from the second she turned eighteen, when it rocketed from a curiosity into a full-blown addiction. The scent of rubbing alcohol pierced the air, and she wiped with the tissue she used to blot. Mitch leaned hard on the table, but the asshole kept flexing his fingers every so often. His scruff threatened to turn into a beard as of late, and despite the stupidly pretty eyelashes on him, they didn’t distract from the weariness in his gaze.

“I bet the clients come pouring in just for your award-winning attitude,” Mitch drawled, amusement in his eyes. He’d stopped piercing a couple of years ago for Inkspirations, but their friendship somehow weathered their “born from the bowels of Hell” dispositions.

“I’m not paid to pontificate, dickbag,” Lex continued. Truth be told, she owed Mitch a lot. He was one of the few friends who had stuck around after she’d gotten locked up, and even though they didn’t work together anymore, they still hung out, whether they took the bikes for a drive along the highway at midnight or caught a shitty horror movie at Terrace Theater.

“Busting out your thesaurus now?” he joked, his eyes crinkled at the edges with his smile.

“Ladies love a linguist,” Lex shot back even as she focused on the sweep of the lines. The fugue state she descended into when she inked set in—the hyper-concentration, the way her hand swerved in a mesmerizing rhythm of lines and edges—only interrupted when she blotted the ink and dabbed more on. She was head over heels for this piece, and they’d started at the base of his arm with plans of doing a full sleeve. It featured a messload of death and destruction, the black lines of charred skulls, the delicate strokes of crows flying overhead, and a flickering candle at the base, as flame ran up through the scenes.

“Speaking of ladies,” Mitch spoke up, his low voice breaking through the haze. “Since it’s one of my few off nights, want to wingman for me tonight? My dry spell’s stretching close to six months.”

Lex made a gagging noise but kept inking away, almost done the section they worked on this session. “Bro, six months is way too long. Even Adrian’s getting laid on the regular now.”

“Don’t listen to her, Mitch,” Bellamy James bellowed from the other room. “A week’s too long for that one.”

“Thanks, boss ,” Lex shouted even though Bellamy already strolled over to stand in the doorframe.

The owner of Inkspirations was tall enough he needed to duck under the doorway, and due to the kickboxing he did every day, all the honed muscle combined with tons of ink made him look like one mean motherfucker. Absolute bullshit—she’d never met a sweeter wiseass. Her boss’s work and the ink he got himself was a hybrid of vintage blended with newer styles, and folks booked a full year in advance to get an appointment with him.

“Don’t be jealous, Bell.” Lex flashed a wicked grin back. “There’ll be some scraps left over on my one-woman mission to turn them all.”

Mitch snorted. “With the amount you get lucky, we’ll all end up celibate.”

Lex pulled the tattoo gun back, surveying her work. “Right babe, let’s wrap you up for now.”

She smeared the ointment on the raised skin of his arm, blood pricking from sections where she’d gone over the lines a couple of times with more intricate details. She wrapped the tattoo in plastic and then taped it around the edges. Once she finished up with Mitch, she snapped her purple latex gloves off, tossing them in the bin.

Bell clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Not bad,” he said, which in Bell-speak was high praise.

Lex’s cheeks heated, so she didn’t look up. Fuck, she didn’t deserve to be surrounded by all these good, caring people. She was mean on a good day, sharper than a bag of needles, and kept trouble in her back pocket any time she got bored.

“Gotta pay my dues,” she forced out, keeping her tone gruff.

Mitch shifted onto his feet and slapped the cash on the table. His gaze sparked with the same mischief that circulated through her veins. “You, me, Notes Nightclub at nine.”

Lex seized the distraction. “You’ve got it, brother.”

Mitch flicked her in the arm. “The attack plan is for me, not you this time.”

“Not my fault your ladies love me,” Lex drawled. Mitch lifted his middle finger as he walked to the front of the shop, night and day different from their sterile stalls. The waiting room of Inkspirations was a splat of crimson paint covered in art books, rockabilly and retro lamps, knick-knacks, and traditional pinup work on the walls. She adored it.

Bell squatted in the stool across from her. “Your work’s been consistent, and your skills haven’t lapsed in your time apart. In six months, we’re going to have a talk about moving you up to a shop regular.”

Lex’s brows drew together before she could help herself. The panic seized her chest and ran with it. She’d always raced forward a hundred miles a minute, and her mantra through all of high school was ‘get the hell out of here.’ The idea of being stuck in one place constricted her insides.

“I dunno, Bell,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “I’ve got a lot of work to do before my shading’s up to snuff.”

She chanced a look up.

Bell raised one of his thick brows, and a grin played on his lips. “You have six months to settle into the idea. Take your time and think on it.”

Her heart squeezed tight. Damn the man for knowing her far too well.

“If you were a chick, I’d marry you in a heartbeat.” Lex cracked a grin.

“Our resident commitment-phobe proposing? Consider me flattered.” Bell pushed up from his seat and strode through the door to the front of house. “I’m heading out. Lock up after your last appointment.”

Lex didn’t bother responding as she began spraying down her station. This place had become a home and she loved it, so why did her stupid mouth get in the way? She slumped into her seat and ran a hand through her hair.

She probably caught a curse or some shit. Her love life was definitely hexed. Any girl she’d developed feelings for as a kid ended up being straight, even if they didn’t mind experimenting around a little. And every time without fail, her feelings slipped out and friendships didn’t just crack—they shattered.

God, she was more of a mess than Uncle Noel at a wedding.

This whole thing with Cam was an exercise in futility. Another straight girl who wanted to splash around in the shallows but would skip out before she got dragged in by the tide.

“Fuck,” the word slipped from her, exploding through the empty room like shrapnel.

Head in the game. One more client tonight, and then distraction time with Mitch.

***

“Adrian, you’re a lime in a basket full of lemons,” Danny commented, leading the charge toward Notes. The woman dressed for the occasion in a slinky knee-length black number that made her red hair pop. Adrian on the other hand wore a polo and a kill-me-now expression. The crimson lights cast dappled patterns onto the inky asphalt, and the bass beats from inside the club reverberated out to here.

Lex didn’t bother to hide her snicker. Adrian hated clubs, but he loooved Danny. And her future sister-in-law was an inveterate club kid like herself, which had cemented their friendship.

Mitch strode to meet them outside the entrance. “Like I don’t get enough of the Dukases on the regular. Your family keeps crawling out of the woodwork, like a termite infestation.” The guy looked sharp as a switchblade in his gray button-down, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows to keep his arm from getting contaminated. His thick black hair had been tamed, and he’d even taken a tangle with his scruff from earlier.

“I like the idea of being an infestation,” Lex responded, taking the lead into the club.

“You would,” Adrian muttered, casting an irritated look the overhead sound system blasting music their way. They nabbed their wristbands in the foyer and then pushed open the heavy double doors to enter into a world of heavy electronica, sweat, and pulsing neon lights.

“Did you just get work done?” Danny asked, glancing to Mitch’s arm. Already it grew harder to hear from the pounding music. With the flush of bodies surrounding them, Adrian tugged Danny tight to him, who bounced in her Docs as she entered.

“Lex did it,” Mitch said, jerking a thumb at her.

“Jealous,” Danny’s eyes glittered. “I’m going to have to make an appointment.”

“Any time, babe,” Lex said, skimming the room for empty counterspace by the bar.

“Cam coming tonight?” Adrian asked, dipping down to brush his lips over Danny’s. She melted in his arms, and the two were a minute away from a sloppy makeout session.

Lex perked to attention, waiting for Danny’s response. She hadn’t seen Cam for a week, not since the night they’d walked and talked out at the Waterfront Park. Which had been a stupid plan on her part, because now all she could think of was the sultry scent of Cam’s rose perfume, her soft petal lips, and the perfect arch of her brow every time she delivered some sardonic reply.

“She had a rough day at the Horntrees’,” Danny said. “Less ‘go out and drink,’ more ‘go home, eat mac and cheese, and binge-watch a show.’”

Lex ignored the pang of disappointment. She was the idiot for dragging this out and the one who’d started this whole thing in the first place. She spied an empty stool and slid right in.

“Dark and stormy,” she ordered the second the bartender flicked his gaze her way. Adrian leaned in to get a beer and a water for Danny, and Mitch snagged the spot next to her to nab some JD on the rocks.

The bartender slid her drink down the lit-up bar, and she wrapped her palms around the cool glass. Danny grabbed Adrian’s hand and dragged him toward the dance floor. Her older brother’s eyes crinkled, his smile so genuine it hurt. The mopey asshole determined to save the entire family deserved this. She was so damn happy for them, yet she tipped back a jealousy chaser every time.

The spice from the ginger beer coated her throat, and she relished the sweet taste. A couple of gorgeous blondes stepped into view beside her, and Lex’s senses pinged on alert. They were the sort of smooth-skinned beauties meant for basking at the beach, and they’d coordinated in an array of jewel-toned dresses.

Lex leaned closer to the amethyst one. “What are you guys here for tonight?”

Amethyst tilted her head toward the chick in the ruby dress. “Bachelorette party. Not much of a clubgoer, to be honest.”

“Neither is this guy,” Lex jerked a thumb in the direction of Mitch. He perfected the masculine brooding thing with his glass of whiskey lifted to his lips and a lost look in his deep brown eyes. “I had to drag him kicking and screaming from the bar he owns.” Bait tossed, Lex caught Mitch’s gaze and waited.

The gleam in Amethyst’s eyes when her gaze rested on Mitch was telltale. Oh yeah, she picked up what he was putting down. Mitch leaned forward on cue, paying attention to them now. Amethyst’s fingers slipped to a strand of hair and twirled.

“These guys are here for a bachelorette,” Lex called. Mitch nodded in response.

He started to talk, but his voice got drowned out by the noise. Before Lex could gesture, Amethyst slipped past her friends and placed her hand on the bar between them. Mitch leaned in close enough that his lips brushed against her ear—Lex knew the move. She’d perfected that move. A little proximity, and the blonde leaned in to talk privately with him.

Another girl from the bachelorette party, this one in an aquamarine dress, stepped beside her. “What are they talking about?”

“The size of my friend’s dick, probably,” Lex responded.

Aquamarine leaned in closer, revealing an ample chest begging to spill from the satin curves of that dress. “Too bad I’m not interested in that.”

Lex recognized the look. Whether she was lesbian for a night, bi, or out and proud, this girl was looking for one hot night in a random club. This was when the lines, the promises, spilled from Lex as she performed a social dance that would put most clubgoers to shame.

Yet the words gummed in her mouth. The idea of cramming into a bathroom stall didn’t summon the thrill it had two weeks ago, and she only had herself to blame. Because she decided to take things slow with Cam and draw this out like an exercise in self-flagellation.

Instead, she leaned in and waggled her brows. “Want to start taking bets on how long it takes for them to ‘find somewhere private?’”

Aquamarine snorted, amusement in her eyes, amongst other things. The woman angled in until their arms brushed against each other. Lex’s body should be responding like normal with that zing-zing-zing pushing her to take the lead, but instead, all she could think of was swinging on a bench with Cam and staring out at the sea.

Ugh. She should’ve just kissed Cam back then. Maybe then this obsession wouldn’t be creeping under her skin.

By now, Emerald joined Amethyst in fawning over Mitch. He caught Lex’s glance and passed her a grateful smile.

“My bet is in the next five minutes,” Aquamarine leaned in close. She smelled like peaches and cream, yet all Lex could think about were roses. The woman got handsier by the second, something she’d usually escalate on her own, finding excuses to reach out and touch. Those pink manicured tips glided up her forearm where she’d gotten her first tattoo, an intricate black and white wing.

“You’ve got gorgeous ink,” Aquamarine purred.

Lex chewed on her lip, warring with the need to be smart and keep floating on the surface and the fucking temptation Cam presented. “Thanks, sweetheart,” she responded. “I tattoo over at Inkspirations.”

The woman’s eyes lit up, and Lex bit back her weary sigh. Whatever shit revelation reared its ugly head, somehow she wasn’t in the mood for her usual prowl tonight. Lex leaned forward to Mitch and snapped her fingers to get his attention.

“Hey, you good if I jet early? I’ll make it up to you,” Lex mouthed. Mitch nodded, though his forehead creased in concern. She’d have to spin some bullshit he’d never believe later.

Lex leaned into Aquamarine. “I’m trusting my friend here with you and yours, got that? Stick with him tonight and he’ll make sure your girl has an unforgettable bachelorette. Promise.”

The woman bobbed her head, but Lex already slid up by the time her mouth opened to ask where she was heading. The heavy thump of the bass beat reverberated through her bones, her mind, and her soul tonight, shaking her up like a cocktail. When the emotions ran too hot and the nerves got too high, she needed to sling a punch, fuck someone senseless, or speed along the highway until her cheeks iced.

One thing was sure though. This fire in her veins meant something was going to burn.